


Blessings Bestowed at Night

by IndigoDream



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortality, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Side relationships: Lambert/Aiden + Vesemir/OFC, Weddings, Worldbuilding, the moon is there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDream/pseuds/IndigoDream
Summary: Weddings are important to Jaskier's culture, and he wants his own to be absolutely perfect. When the night of it comes, he has no idea of the surprises he is in for.--Or: the author was supposed to write fluff and instead did lots of worldbuilding around weddings
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 20
Kudos: 106





	Blessings Bestowed at Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello~ 
> 
> I will preface this by saying that I am insanely proud of this fic for no reason I can discern whatsoever, but I love it. 
> 
> Second little thing: Jaskier is an Unseelie Prince in this, a creature I have already used in a [previous fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25129009/chapters/60884227), but since it is not a follow up to that fic, here is the main gist of it: Unseelies are sorta twin beings to Seelies (or Fae), except they worship the moon rather than the sun, and they are now almost extinct. 
> 
> Anyhoo that's all there is, I hope y'all will enjoy it as much as I do!

Jaskier doesn’t often enjoy taking down his glamour, but tonight, it feels right. His horns are heavy on his head, curling on the side, the gold lines of it dancing with the rising moonlight. His outfit is full of finery, gold threaded through silk, and he feels almost overdressed, but his wings twitch lightly in his back as Aiden finishes lacing the golden jewels through them.

“Gold suits you,” the Cat comments, amused as he steps back, and looks at Jaskier. “Gotta say, never thought I would help a prince before his wedding.” 

Jaskier laughs, the dark, gaunt skin of his wings shaking slightly with his laughter. They aren’t bird’s wings, no. Jaskier wasn’t born blessed this way. His wings are thick leather and delicate membrane, scales that shine under the sun and sharp claws that drag in the ground when he doesn’t hold them. The scales go halfway to his arms and up to his chin as well, covering his brown skin in patches of dark purple scales. 

“I hope so,” he murmurs, looking at himself in the mirror. “I never thought I would get married.” 

“Didn’t think anyone would want your ugly mug?” Aiden teases and walks closer. “Come on, everyone knew that you and Geralt were made for each other from the moment you met.” 

“Except Geralt.” 

The Cat witcher snorts. “Yeah, he has a thick skull. Come on, they are all waiting now.” 

Jaskier looks at himself one last time. Everything needs to be perfect, he can’t look like a mess today. He is so nervous suddenly, the moonlight that shines through the large window doing nothing to assuage his fear. Only the most important rituals of his people are done at night, and of them all, this one is the most important. 

“Hey, you’ll be alright,” Aiden says gently, coming to press a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You and Geralt deserve this. You two are disgustingly in love.” 

“You can talk, _kitten_ ,” Jaskier says, and Aiden laughs. “I just… I want this so much.” 

“I know you do, and so does Geralt. Everything will work out, alright? Everyone is here for you two. This wedding, you’ve been preparing it for months. You made sure that it would be the most powerful moon of the year, that we were in the most opportune place for this. Your wedding will be amazing.” 

Jaskier sighs, breathes out. “Right. It will be good.” 

Aiden smiles and extends his arm to him. “Then lets go, princeling.” 

Grabbing Aiden’s arm by the elbow, Jaskier walks out of the room with him, leaving the cabin they have created for this very occasion. Yennefer and Cirilla had poured all their magic into making this tiny, rotten hunter’s cabin into the warm and luxurious place that it is now, and Jaskier had also given it some added magical enhancements. 

There are only a few steps toward the clearing where it will happen, and now that they are out, that Jaskier can feel the cool air of the night on his skin, he knows that everything will be good. He has been waiting for this for what feels like an eternity, months that became years and then decades, until it all came to this moment now.

The clearing is bathed in the bright silver of the moon, and Jaskier feels warmer from it, his blood singing from his connection to the astral being. Men believe the moon to be a satellite to the earth, a mere piece of rock floating in the immensity of space, but Jaskier knows better. His people worship the moon, know Her secrets and Her wishes. They are Unseelies, guardians of the night and the darkness. The moon chose them in Her wisdom to protect Her ways. And Jaksier has never been closer to Her than now. 

Everyone is gathered in a circle, Geralt in the middle of it. Unlike Jaskier who is dressed all in black and gold, Geralt wears all white, and his outfit is simple, almost painfully so. The only thing that differs is his silver wolf medallion, which Jaskier hadn’t insisted be removed; the ceremony would still be able to work perfectly even with the slight interference, and it was already such an important gesture that Geralt had agreed to not carry his swords.

The witcher is looking at him, golden eyes set on him with a tenderness that does nothing to temper down the heat of his gaze. Jaskier lets go of Aiden’s arm as he reaches the circle, and the Cat witcher completes the circle around them. Magic hums quietly around them, drawn by the presence of so many powerful people in one spot, and the moon shines ever so brighter. Jaskier can almost feel the way his goddess is extending Her arms to cradle his family into Her embrace. 

“You are…” Geralt starts, reaching out for his hand and then tugging him in his arms, his hand caressing Jaskier’s cheek delicately. “A marvel. You’re a marvel.” 

Jaskier smiles, leaning in the touch, his lover’s thumb brushing at his scales and warming him to his very core. “So are you.”

Geralt huffs with a slight smile. “I look boring compared to you.” 

“Keeping you dressed in white without any stain is a miracle, darling,” Jaskier teases. “You look absolutely dashing like this.” 

His witcher smiles and presses a light kiss to his cheek, lips grazing Jaskier’s. 

“Are you two going to compliment each other all evening or can we start?” Yennefer calls out, her long black dress complimented by the thick white fur coat she has over it. “Some of us don’t have blood as warm as you two do.” 

“You mean, you don’t,” Lambert grins next to her, and the sorceress gives him a nasty glare. “What, it’s true! Even Cirilla isn’t cold.” 

The teenager shrugs as she looks at her adoptive mother. “It’s not that cold?” 

Yennefer rolls her eyes and Jaskier giggles softly. Giving the woman a smile, he nods and steps back from Geralt’s warm embrace, although he keeps their hands linked. 

“Let’s begin,” he says, and the whole of them tense, growing more serious. 

He has made sure that the positions of everyone would be perfect to conduct the energy he will breathe into the circle. This is, after all, not a simple wedding. Jaskier is a prince, and as such, he is bringing a princely gift, but to bestow it upon his family, he needs them to follow his precise instructions. Unseelie magic is nothing to fool around. 

At the head of the circle, Vesemir is holding a small, round mirror in his hand. On his left, Yennefer stands, her makeup glistening gold and her black dress trailing in the gentle grass of the clearing. She holds a small bowl of water, and despite the night, the water is clear and blue. On Vesemir’s right, Ciri is waiting, her outfit matching Geralt’s except for her black breeches and the golden crown circling her head, where moonflowers have been carved into thick gold. Eskel is next to her, holding Roach’s bridle. Geralt’s horse is outside of the circle, but she remains close nonetheless, part of their family whether they acknowledge it or not. Eskel has allowed Cirilla to paint his scars golden, and he is dressed in darkness, a thick cape of over his shoulders. Lambert stands next to Yennefer, dressed head to toe in black, although in his hands shine a large moonstone, the white of it glistening under the light from Jaskier’s goddess. And closing the circle, opposing Vesemir, Aiden has more gold accents than any of the others, but he holds nothing in his hand. Rather, he has drawn on his cheeks the wedding runes that Jaskier had asked him too. 

Drawing on his connection to the moon, Jaskier breathes deeply and closes his eyes. The pulsating point of his magic, faint when he doesn’t use it, grows so large that it encompasses all of him, and soon enough, all of them. He can feel the wild magic of Cirilla, the calm anger of Yennefer’s Chaos, and the witchers’ connection to their Signs. He is rather glad that none of them is banally human; it would make this much harder. 

Reopening his eyes, he smiles at Geralt tenderly. “For the life you are choosing with me, I give you a life by my side, free from worries of loss and grief. I give you freedom from mortality, for you and those gathered with us.” 

Despite the fact that everyone knew this was coming, that they had all agreed to this, Jaskier senses their slight surprise that he has indeed gone through with his plans, but he doesn’t stop talking. 

“To you I pledge my life, to you I pledge my love. In the darkness of the night, in the brightness of the sun, with the moon as my witness, I wed thee, Geralt of Rivia.” 

Geralt is shaking slightly, tremors of joy running through his body. “For the life you are choosing with me, I give you a family, a life free from loneliness and sorrow. I give you the joy of sharing with those gathered with us the bonds that I share.” 

When Jaskier had told him this was the traditional gift, Geralt had refused at first. He had insisted it wasn’t enough, that it didn’t compare to what Jaskier was offering him. 

“You’re already part of our family,” Geralt had protested, crossing his arms. “I have to be able to give you something better!” 

“This is what I want. I have no family anymore, Geralt. I have no ties to this world. By offering me your family, by offering to share in front of my goddess, you will make sure that She will not recall me to her side. A family is all I have ever wanted, and your family? It is the greatest gift of all time.” 

Geralt had relented in the end, and Jaskier smiles happily now, tears gathering in his eyes. 

“To you I pledge my life, to you I pledge my love. In the heat of battle, in the quiet of peace, with the moon as my witness, I wed thee, Jaskier son of the moon.” 

There is a moment when nothing happens, when the world grows so quiet not even the birds chirp in the woods, and fear strikes in Jaskier again. He struggles to keep the magic strong, knows that he has to be patient, but still. What if She refuses? What if She decides that their wedding is not to be, what if-

The water is the first thing to move. It rises off the bowl and grows, more water adding itself to the mix, and the air is heavy with the scent of sea salt as it starts to swirl around them. It grows until it surrounds them all within the circle, protecting even Roach, and then it crystallizes in the air, a thin cover of ice that encapsulates them in its cold embrace. 

Ciri’s crown is the next thing. It transforms, gold melting away and the flowers becoming alive, all of them dancing in an unnatural breeze until one of them rests upon each of their brow. Jaskier welcomes it, the slight heaviness of the gold-turned-flower in his hair a comfort. He smiles softly as he sees one of the flowers gently float to Roach’s mane. In a few days, it will disappear, only to reappear somewhere on their skin, appropriately placed to match who they are. Jaskier can already tell Geralt’s will be on his right hand: duty, protection, strength. He wonders where his own will be. Maybe his throat, for his singing, or maybe his wings, for his faithfulness.

The moonstone in Lambert’s hand hovers above his hands, and no one dares to move as it starts spinning. There is a hissing sound, loud enough to make even Yennefer wince despite not having any enhanced hearing, and then the stone shatters. Instead of one united stone, there are ten of them. As it had with the flowers, the breeze carries one to each of them, although the two smallest ones come to Jaskier. Dancing around his horns, the stones make a small whipping sound before they set into his horns, each at the base of one. For the others, they come to rest over their heart, and Jaskier sees the slight discomfort over Geralt’s face as the stone sets in his skin, at the very core of his being. The moonstone had always been the part of the ritual Jaskier had known would be the most difficult for them all, but soon it will become such a part of them that they will forget ever existing without it. 

Aiden and Eskel’s face, painted with the gold of Jaskier’s ancestors, glow as the symbols are activated on Aiden’s face, and as Eskel’s scars act as a beacon to the moon. Her presence becomes heavy in the air, and Jaskier wonders what She will look like, what She will be like. She will, indubitably, be the brightest thing in the world, the most— 

“So many expectations, little one,” a voice, smooth and terrible, says, and Jaskier sees the mirror, now on the ground, giving an image of Her. She doesn’t have a name in Jaskier’s language, She is all there is and all there will be, She is the moon and that is Her only name. “So many thoughts swirling in your head. I would wonder if you did not marry only to meet me, if it weren’t for the love that compelled me to appear.” 

Jaskier can’t help himself; he blushes, his wings fluttering shyly behind him. “My apologies, Your Holiness, I am simply… ecstatic at meeting You.” 

“Of course you are,” She says, amused and tender. “You chose a gift hard to give, little one.” 

“Yes,” Jaskier agrees, but this time he looks at Her directly, meeting the pale eyes of Her reflection. “I chose to keep my love with me, and to keep those dearest to us. They are all good people, with hearts that befit Your children, Your Holiness. They have chosen me as much as I have chosen them and I wish-“ 

“You do not need to argue, little one.” One of Her hands reaches out, caressing Jaskier’s cheek in a motherly manner. “It has already been given to them. You have chosen your family well, Jaskier. May your marriage be peaceful, and your life bountiful.” 

Her eyes slide to Geralt’s form, and She smiles again. Her hand comes to rest over Geralt’s heart, the stone there glowing through Geralt’s white shirt. 

“Geralt of Rivia. Brave witcher, who chose to love one of my children. May your marriage be peaceful, and your path clear. You shall carry with you my blessing, son of the wolf. Be the wolf, be the swift wind that carries my blessings to the world.” 

A bit surprised, Geralt nods and stammers a bit before answering, but he clears his throat and bows his head. “Thank you, Your Holiness.” 

The moon smiles, and She turns to the others, given them each a blessing as well. Ciri, She blesses her with clear sight and a swift foot, Yennefer with the magic of Her children, so much more delicate than Chaos, and so much more powerful. To Lambert and Aiden, She gives a gift that Jaskier knows is often granted at weddings: the blessing of the hearts. They will always be with the other, even when separated, and they will always find one another again. Eskel, She blesses with a heart at peace and the protection of the moon. 

It is when She reaches Vesemir again that She stops, Her eyes delving into the eldest witcher’s. There is a long moment in which nothing happens, and then She smiles, bright and beautiful, and the ice arounds them trembles with the strength of it. 

“To you, Vesemir, witcher and father, I give you what I have always kept.” Gently, she tilts his chin up, and she becomes much more clearer now, and Jaskier gasps. She is _materializing_. “Be blessed by the moon and her love.” 

Her lips gently touch Vesemir’s, and the ice shatters in a thousand pieces. The moonlight explodes throughout the clearing, and suddenly She is here, and Vesemir is kissing Her too. 

Jaskier smiles, intertwining his fingers with Geralt’s, and he whispers to his husband ( _and what a thrill to be thinking those words!_ ), “I think we are not the only ones who will have found our match tonight.” 

The moon laughs at that, parting from Vesemir, and She is less clear now, fading again. “I cannot stay on the land long, but I will return.” 

Vesemir nods, dazed, and he chases Her lips once more, a bit desperate in the gesture, and She grants him one last kiss before she disappears. The world turns back to its usual moonlit darkness, and Jaskier’s heartbeat returns to a gentle thrum. 

Everyone is staring at the eldest witcher, and Geralt grins. “Way too upstage my wedding, old man.” 

Vesemir coughs slightly, a faint blush over his face. “Well, it was a lovely ceremony.” 

The laughter starts from Lambert, and it spreads like wildfire through them. Tonight is a merry night, and there will be even more laughter and joy to spread once they are back to the cabin, but for now, they enjoy the fresh air of the woods at night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wee! I might continue with this, because I have a little more things I can see happening in this verse... namely i need to make Geralt's blessing more explicit ;) and also Vesemir's life is going to be _so_ full of love... the moon is only the start. 
> 
> Leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed it! Let me know if you wanna see more! And don't hesitate to come see me on [my witcher/geraskier tumblr](https://saltytransidiot.tumblr.com/) !


End file.
